


Scorch Marks

by TooManyFanficsYouAss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angst, Angst and Feels, Castiel in the Bunker, Crying Dean, Emotional Hurt, Feelings, Feels, Hurt, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, I'm Sorry, M/M, Please Don't Kill Me, Protective Dean Winchester, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 18:06:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6250057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyFanficsYouAss/pseuds/TooManyFanficsYouAss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Then what is this about, Dean?” Castiel asked, his eyebrows raised. He looked ready for a challenge, ready for this argument. He was probably prepared as he knew Dean would say no.<br/>“Cas-”<br/>“No, I’m coming with you, whether you like it or not.” The determination in Castiel’s eyes choked Dean up. There was no way to stop him and it angered him even further.<br/>“You know what? Fine. If you want to come with us, be my guest,” Dean nearly screamed, inching closer until he was right in front of Castiel’s face, almost nose to nose. “But don’t expect me to come save your ass when you’re in trouble.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorch Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if you want me to make a sequel with a happy ending.

“Dean Winchester.” The voice sounded an awful lot like Cas, but not at all at the same time. The voice was rough and raspy but also cold and impersonal. It made Dean’s skin crawl, goosebumps rising for the worse reasons.

Why did he tell Sam to go ahead? Now he was in a deserted barn, with a weird creature that wore Cas’s meat suit, or looked an awful lot like him and there was no way of escaping.

“You’re not Cas,” Dean growled, his eyes shifting to the angel blade in “Castiel’s” hand. “Who are you?!”

“You finally figured it out, good for you,” the creature smiled, the grin unnatural on Castiel’s face. “You can call me Melanie.”

“What are you?” Dean spat, his eyes almost glowing with the rising fire inside of him. This Melanie either took Castiel’s form or wore him as a meat suit.

‘I should have known better,’ Dean thought, as Melanie inched closer. They had a fight about it before earlier this afternoon. With Cas on borrowed grace, Dean was more cautious with him, making sure he was safe all the time. Castiel, the natural born warrior, wasn’t having anything of Dean’s protectiveness. He wanted to go out, fight with them, and that’s how they ended up fighting, only with words.

“I have fought for millennia, Dean, I can handle this,” Castiel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, something he had picked up after a few weeks of being human. In his defense, Sam and Dean gave him enough reasons to have a blooming headache, mostly Dean, though.

“Cas, you’re on borrowed grace, hell, the feather’s on your wings just grew back,” Dean argued, his cheeks already a bit redder from the disagreement.

“You can’t tell me what to do Dean.”

“Like hell, I can’t!”

“Trust me for once!” Cas yelled. The bunker was dead silent after that. Dean stood in front of him, his mouth wide agape. Sam was a few feet away, slowly dropping his book to peer at them.

“I do trust you, Cas, that’s not what this is about” Dean snapped, the real heat lessened in his tone. He could understand what Cas was going through, he tried at least. And he understood what being helpless felt like, but he couldn’t do this. Not with Cas. He couldn’t bring him into any kind of danger, not with his mojo gone.

“Then what is this about, Dean?” Castiel asked, his eyebrows raised. He looked ready for a challenge, ready for this argument. He was probably prepared as he knew Dean would say no.

“Cas-”

“No, I’m coming with you, whether you like it or not.” The determination in Castiel’s eyes choked Dean up. There was no way to stop him and it angered him even further.

“You know what? Fine. If you want to come with us, be my guest,” Dean nearly screamed, inching closer until he was right in front of Castiel’s face, almost nose to nose. “But don’t expect me to come save your ass when you’re in trouble.”

The pure hurt Castiel’s eyes were enough to shatter Dean’s heart. He didn’t mean it like that, he wanted those words to fly back into his mouth as if they were never said. Maybe he never actually said it, maybe it was just one of his nightmares. However, the shocked look on Sam’s face proved his theory wrong.

“Okay,” Castiel whispered, before turning his back to Dean and climbing the stairs of the bunker, off to his own room.

“Dude, I can’t believe you said that,” Sam whisper yelled, a faint hint of disbelieve on his features. Dean couldn’t believe it too, but the itch to protect Cas from everything even remotely bad reminded him why he did this.

And now, with Cas in danger, Dean never actually got to apologize.

Cas’s once azure eyes turned black as the night, like only a demon’s eyes ever could. Dean’s pulse raised as the angel bladed traced his underarm. Melanie pressed further until little bloodstreams stained his arms red. She made Cas grin evilly, which only made the matter worse. Cas was still in there, he had to witness himself hurting Dean.

“Why are you doing this?” Dean asked through gritted teeth. The blade was too close to his heart already. The demon paused and sighed.

“Because, hunter, you’ve caused us way too much trouble in hell.”

“Orders from Crowley?”

“Think of this as a freelance kind of thing.” She moved the blade back, still aimed at his heart. She was about to plunge the blade into his chest, Dean figured that much. The menacing smile told him enough. Melanie was having a bit too much fun with this.

“Cas, buddy?” Dean tried. His only hope was to reach Cas in time, snap him out of it and take control again. If he could only remember the damn exorcism. Dean vowed then and there to learn the lines if he made it out of here alive.

“Aw, poor little hunter, trying to reach his angel,” ‘Cas’ pouted, cackling right after. “Isn’t that pathetic.”

“Cas, please-”

The blade was already coming his way with a speed he knew he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t reach Cas in time. It was too late. Dean closed his eyes.

Except, he didn’t feel anything.

Dean opened his eyes slowly, his heart racing in his chest. Before him was Cas, his mouth wide agape as black smoke came out of him, disappearing into the air. Castiel fell forward on his knees, quickly untying the rope from his wrists on the chair and fell down onto his back.

Dean stood quickly, rushing over to Cas’s side. He was about to help the angel up until he saw liquid on the floor next to him. Blood.

Castiel groaned, clutching his stomach as tears escaped his eyes. Dean picked him up and placed Castiel’s back against his chest. He held Castiel stomach, pushing on it to stop the bleeding somewhat, covering Castiel’s hands in the process.

“Don’t die on me, Cas,” Dean said, his voice trembling with fear. He couldn’t lose Cas, not now and not ever. “I’m gonna call Sam and you’ll be fine.”

“There’s no time, Dean,” Castiel gasped, his voice rougher than ever. Cas was breathing heavily, his eyes drooping already.

He was losing too much blood.

“Cas, no, I can’t lose you,” Dean cried out, holding the angel even closer to his chest. ‘This wasn’t happening, please, don’t let this be happening,’ Dean begged, praying to every God out there to help him.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” And with those words, Castiel fell limp in his arms, a blue light of grace escaping the wound.

Dean didn’t even feel the burning of the wing marks on his chest and arms when he closed his eyes. He felt numb as if the world collided around him and he was there, in the middle, unable to do anything to stop it.

Dean sobbed and cried, a flow of  “please” and “Cas” escaping his lips. His hands trembled when they closed Castiel’s eyes, which stared up at him without seeing.

“Cas, please, no!” Dean cried, the tears rolling over his cheeks. “Not you, please, not you.”

Dean didn’t even care to rub his eyes from tears that blocked his vision. He just squeezed his eyes shut and ran his hands through Castiel’s hair. He sounded broken when he said those three words he never dared to say before,

“I love you.”

Sam returned a few minutes later after he got worried and turned the car around. He found Dean, still in the barn, clutching Castiel tightly, his face buried in the dead angel’s neck.

Scorch marks of angel wings covered the barn, but only the top half.


End file.
